Dewey Book Review

3^rd Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Dewey By Vicki Myron with Brett Witter. Grand Central Publishing, 2008 Genre: Non-Fiction

Dewey is a cat who was found in a library drop box on the coldest morning of the year. He lived in the library after that, and the whole staff loved him. They went through tough times, involving getting people to accept Dewey, and the make things as easy as possible for their patrons. The story of Dewey is told, about his whole life, as well as the lives of people around him, like the author, Vicki Myron. She also talks about her personal problems; her difficult marriage, her daughter, her schooling, as well as other obstacles she faced.

“What an extraordinary story of love, courage, and devotion. I will not soon forget the good people of Spencer, Iowa, and their wonderful library cat. DEWEY is truly inspiration for the soul,” says Jack Canfield, co creator of Chicken Soup for the Soul.

The author, Vicki Myron, speaks in first person about Dewey, her past, the library, and the town of Spencer, Iowa, where the book takes place mostly. She doesn’t speak with very large words, so it was easy to understand, but it wasn’t so lacking that it was boring. I thought the author did an okay job of describing each situation. There were a few points in the book where I was kind of confused as to where they were, if she was talking about that situation or something following it. This is different than most books that I read because I usually read fiction stories, but it was interesting for a change and read something that had actually happened.

“I wanted to tell him Dewey wasn’t just any cat, but Rick had been taking pet photographs for the past week. He’d probably heard it a hundred times already” (144).

I was split on how much I liked this book. I liked it a lot because I love cats and have a cat, so I liked reading about one, and it was cool how Dewey could almost have little conversations with Vicki. On the other hand, it was a lot of historical facts, which I found boring. I didn’t like reading about the history of Iowa, at least the way she described it.

The Guinea Pig That Saves Lives

Geneva was walking down the street with Nibbler, her pet guinea pig. Ever since Geneva had gotten Nibbler on her 10th birthday, she had taken her out to get fresh air by walking up and down her street. Nibbler would stick out of her sweatshirt pocket, her long untrimmed fur blowing in the cool October air. Now, Geneva was 17 years old. And everyday for seven years, she had taken Nibbler outside. It had become their own little tradition.
On this one October day, it was particularly quiet on Geneva’s street in Denver, Colorado. Single cars passed one by one every twenty minutes or so. One certain car drove past quickly, definitely over the speed limit. It was a large black van, and in its hurry, it drove through a deep puddle from the previous nights rain, and soaked Geneva through her clothes. She shuddered of the cool water, swearing under her breath, but decided to cut the walk short so she could change her clothes. As she turned around the black vehicle suddenly appeared again, this time traveling slower. Geneva noticed this, and realized that it was following her. She held on to Nibbler and started to walk faster. The van moved faster too.
Geneva broke into a sprint. The van roared to life and continued after her. She shoved Nibbler further into her sweatshirt pocket to save her from falling to the ground. However, the van was definitely faster than her and she was quickly overtaken. A man in a black ski mask jumped out of the back of the van and grabbed both of her arms, tied them with rope, and pushed her into the van. He then tied together her legs with the rest of the rope, so that her ankles were touching her wrists.
Throughout the process, Geneva was screaming at the top of her lungs until she was silenced by the piece of duct tape that was placed over her mouth. Nibbler was staying quietly in her pocket; she was well trained. Geneva was happy about this; she wanted to be able to keep Nibbler. The van then jolted forward, forcing Geneva and the man who took her towards the back. The man got up and cautiously moved to the passenger seat, putting a barrier between him and Geneva. She guessed that they were now taking off their ski masks, attempting to look less suspicious. Geneva considered her options, but came up with nothing.

It seemed like hours later when the van came to a stop. The back door flew open and Geneva was dragged out. She caught a quick glimpse of where they were. She saw a large building with lights on the roof, though none of them were on. They were in what looked like a back parking lot. This was all she saw before she was blindfolded and pushed forward. She heard a door open, and they went through what she assumed was a long hallway, before she heard another door open. Her blindfold was taken off and she was shoved to the ground, the door shut behind her.
Geneva took in her surroundings. She was in an occluded cement room, not even, a closet at best. There was a single blanket on the ground and a sink in the back corner. She walked over to it and set Nibbler in the deep bowl. She put her back against the wall and slid to the floor. What could she possibly do? What did they want with her? Would they annul her? Would she get home?
Suddenly, she heard the latch on the heavy metal door click open. She jumped up and got Nibbler out of the sink, putting her in her pocket again. She was just sitting down again when a small plate with bread ,some lettuce, and an extremely small square block that smelled strongly like albacore was slid in on the floor, followed by a bowl of corn and a glass of water. The door made a loud thud when it was closed. Geneva crawled over to the food and brought it back to her wall. She surveyed it and figured it looked okay, so she slowly started picking at the corn, finding that after not eating since that morning, or the morning before, it all tasted very good. She still didn’t know what she was going to do, but she had hope that someone would abet her.

* * * * *

It had been three months since she had been taken. She knew because they had given her a calendar and a marker to cross off days. She continued to get diurnal food from the door, although she gave some to Nibbler, and she was beginning to become gaunt. They almost never hurt or reprimand her, only occasionally when Geneva would fight back, trying to make them take her home. She had lost the hope she had had when she was first taken. It was vague why they had taken her; they still had explained nothing. She had still come up with no plan to escape or get home. She had to admit, she was thwarted.
One day, she finally got an idea. Nibbler was well trained. She had eaten enough food to not be too feeble. She knew the area around their home, until the next town over. Somehow, she knew what to do if you told her to do it.
So Geneva planned that she would write a note using the marker and a piece of the calendar saying she was in a warehouse place somewhere near in their town. She would put the note through Nibblers collar and send her through the hole in the wall she had found covered up that led to outside. Nibbler would be able to find her way to her house from there. It was a good plan, that is, until Geneva realized that they had driven around for a couple of hours. However, she hoped it was just a trick, to make her obfuscated and think we were farther than they actually were. So she wrote the note and off went Nibbler with instructions from Geneva. She hoped with all her heart that Nibbler would find the way home, and bring someone to save her.

* * * * *

Five days later, Nibbler was still gone, and no sound of rescue came from the hole in the wall. Geneva was starting to get worried, both about Nibbler and if she would ever get out.
She was sleeping when she was awoken to the acute sound of the sirens. All of this clamor was shocking and confusing to her at first, until she registered what was going on. She hurried over to the hole, shouting out that she was in here, to please help her. Then Nibbler rushed through, coming over to her and cuddling against her cool neck. She was so excited; she was about to be emancipated! A mans face was the next thing Geneva saw.
“Don’t worry we’re going to get you out! Do you know how you got to where you are?” This man Geneva guessed was a police officer.
“We went in a door in the back, and then went down a long hallway, and I’m in a room somewhere down there! I was blindfolded though, so I was only –“Geneva cut off her sentence when the latch on the door clicked open, and one of the man came in with a gun in his hand.
“You won’t be getting me caught.” He said as he grabbed her off the floor. Just then, Nibbler ran back out the hole, and the man saw her. "Hey what the - " Geneva took advantage of this opening and bolted out the open door. She ran down the short hallway, taking random turns she hoped were the way out. Over her heavy breathing and her heart pounding, she could hear the man's footsteps behind her, his voice, angry, yelling at her to come back, she'd regret this.
She found a door she thought would lead outside, but it was bolted shut with a heavy piece of metal. She attempted to lift it up, but her weak arms could not handle all that weight. She took some more turns, hoping to lose her follower, which lead her to another door. It was her last hope; it was at a dead end. She ran to it, jiggling the handle, but it was stuck.
"Come on, come on!" She whispered to the door. Just then, the man caught up to her, and at the same moment, the door opened. "Yes!" She ran through, but it was simply another room. She ran across it, but it was just an empty, open room. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. The man, being much stronger than her, quickly came into the room.
"You don't have anywhere else to run, sweetheart. Just give up now." He lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. Geneva braced herself for the blow.
It didn't come.
"Crap!" The man was cursing under his breath. He unloaded it quickly to look for the problem.
Please let me get out of here, Geneva thought to herself. Please, somebody come save me.
Suddenly, as if an answer to her thoughts, the door in which they had both come through burst open, police filling the room, surrounding him.
"You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Geneva Scott. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney....." As the cop read the man his rights, another came over and guided Geneva out of the building. As she walked out through the door, stepping out into sunlight for the first time in three months, the first people she saw were her mom, her dad, and the guinea pig that saved her life.